Once Upon a Star (City)
by RayWritesThings
Summary: King Robert and Lord Lance enter their eldest children into a betrothal arrangement, only for the celebration to be interrupted by Damien Darhk. Will Lady Laurel fall victim the curse upon her, or will true love prevail? / Sleeping Beauty Fusion, for Free Day of Lauriver Week


**Hello, and I hope you've all had a wonderful Lauriver Week! This is my last prompt fill for the week, and it's been a blast writing the various prompts. For the purposes of this AU, it may be a good idea to fancast your own, older version of Ted Grant than what the show gave us (no offense to JR Ramirez, he's just a bit too young for what I had in mind for this fusion). Thanks for reading!**

**-RayWritesThings**

**Once Upon a Star (City)**

Long ago, the kingdom of Star had a very special year. Queen Moira was expecting a child, an heir to the throne. With this event quickly approaching, King Robert had his mind on the future. When it came time to meeting with the various nobles who had pledged fealty to the kingdom, this mindset went with him, including in his talks with Lord Quentin Lance.

Lord Lance was a prickly sort whose loyalty and sense of right could not be bought with money or simple gifts. He commanded a measure of respect among the common folk who tended his land and who he protected in times of strife. Good relations with the nobleman meant peace within his kingdom, and Robert thought he saw the way.

"Lord Quentin, I wish you well and congratulate you and your wife on the birth of your daughter."

"Thank you, your Grace," Lord Quentin answered with a short bow of his head. "We've named her for her mother. And it's my hope she'll grow into a true lady of the kingdom."

"I am certain of that. It's why I am prepared to make you a conditional offer."

Lord Quentin frowned. "Conditional how?"

"On the birth of the new heir to my throne," King Robert told him. "Should the infant be a boy, as I'm hoping he will be, I wish to propose a betrothal between your daughter and my son." He could see the shock on the nobleman's face.

"You're serious?"

"I am interested in focusing on my people, Lord Quentin, not on the lands of others. The future Queen should be one of our own, and I can think of few families finer. But we shall wait for the birth before making any final arrangements."

Prince Oliver arrived to much merriment, and the two families planned a grand feast to celebrate the births and the future union of their houses into one. All the kingdom was invited, save one.

The day of the celebration, three of the kingdom's most respected and sought-after Sidhe were in attendance to bless the future union and the infants individually. First were the gifts bestowed upon the Prince, starting with the one called Fate.

He rose half a foot in the air with both arms held out as he spoke. "To the young Prince, I give him strength of body and strength of heart, to endure the hardships of the crown. Where others falter, he will lead." Thus spoken, he lowered back to the stone floor of the great hall.

"Show off." Constantine was the second of these Sidhe to step forward, striking a match against the baby's crib. "I give the Prince what some may call the gift of diplomacy. With his wit and his humor he will charm those who seek war and and soothe those with rancor against the crown. And with this gift, he will woo the fair lady to which he'll find himself wed." That said, he stepped back and lit a smoke.

Last if the three was Zatara, who held a hand over the crib as he said his own piece. "To the future king I give a warrior and a hunter's skill. No weapon wielded by his hand shall be bested, and thus restraint shall be the true measure of his ability."

With these gifts given to the Prince, the Sidhe turned their attentions to the Princess-to-be. Again, Fate took his turn first.

"To the child, I give the gift of beauty, within and without. Her face shall inspire the poets and her kindness shall inspire the people."

Constantine breathed out a trail of smoke before speaking. "I give the little lady the gift of a strong voice. Raised in anger or song, all will hear her and all will listen, or quickly learn their lesson," he added with a smirk.

Zatara stepped forth, but before he could speak a tremendous wind threw the doors open and blew out every torch in the hall. The King, Queen and Lady Lance all drew back in horror.

Damien Darhk, most feared of the Unseelie, stepped through the open doors to several gasps. "Your Majesties, Lords and Ladies. Forgive my tardiness. I only just learned of this happy celebration today." He walked up the aisle of people that parted at his approach until he had nearly reached the dais upon which the two ceremonial cribs sat. "I'm sure the messenger with my invitation has a good explanation for it."

Lord Lance stepped forward, a frown on his face. He had never appreciated Darhk's encroachments upon the kingdom nor his veiled threats. "There wasn't one sent."

The Unseelie drew back, face transformed into a mockery of shock. "Not sent? But that means… you didn't want my presence at your celebration. Such a shame. After all, I only wished to give the dear little girl a gift of my own."

"You did?" Lady Lance asked hesitantly.

"Why yes. Do listen." He raised a hand. "The future Highness will indeed be beautiful and kind, loved by her Prince and all that feel her kindness. _But_—" And here his voice turned from pleasant to cold and hard. "Before the Earth completes its turn past her thirtieth year, she will fall to an arrow, and _die._"

"No!" Quentin lunged, but was held back by his terrified wife.

"Seize him, before he harms the Prince as well!" King Robert declared. His guards charged, but the laughing Darhk merely disappeared in a flash of light and smoke. When it cleared, all were left in confusion and dismay. A celebration that had quickly turned to a time of mourning.

"Do not despair just yet," Fate told the families. "For Zatara has yet to give the final gift."

"You mean, you can reverse what that monster's done to her?" Quentin didn't dare to hope as he looked upon the Sidhe.

Zatara bowed his head for a moment. "Not reverse entirely, but lessen. With my daughter's help, our magic can divert the course of Darhk's prophecy to some degree." He beckoned a small dark-haired girl to stand with him, and the father took the lead. "Dear child, though others wish you harm, I give you this final protection. Should the arrow pierce your flesh, death it will not bring, but sleep."

"Peaceful sleep eternal," the young Zatanna repeated. At her father's urging, she continued with a brighter gleam in her eyes, "Though many may try to wake you, only one way will they find: the kiss of true love, a power stronger than all the darkness of this world, will end the evil curse upon you and bring the happiness once promised to us all."

A faint glow seemed to emanate around the Sidhe and the cribs, sealing the magic before dimming once more.

"Thank you, Zatara," King Robert said. "But there is nothing else that can undo this wicked trick?"

"None, save hiding the child away, which is what I would do if Darhk set his eyes upon me," Constantine remarked. Then he turned and walked away. The other Sidhe soon followed.

The Lances were both crestfallen at this announcement; they could not simply abandon their station to seek a hideaway nor could they expect to keep their daughter safe from the threat of arrows within the kingdom. Lord Lance, however, was loathe to trust the power of something so intangible as true love's kiss, and so he resolved to have his daughter hidden away from everyone, even himself.

The task was entrusted to a retired knight who held the highest honors: Sir Ted the Wildcat. His wilder nature, already tempered with age, would soften even further in the presence of the sweet child he would raise as if his own. He even gave her a new name to better hide her from Darhk's spies: Laurel. In the dark of night, he slipped away with the baby deep into the woods in a tiny cabin, as removed from the pomp and circumstance she might have been raised in as one could get.

Lord and Lady Lance produced a second daughter they named Sara. The nobles and the royals decided the betrothal agreement between their families would go on, this time without a special celebration to commemorate it. And though they raised the young prince and the young lady with this idea in mind, their children proved far more inclined to pursue their own fates…

Fourteen years later, Prince Oliver of Star rode through the woods. "Ollie, come on! Stay on the path."

He looked back at Tommy, his closest friend from childhood, and laughed. "You stay on it if you want." He urged his horse on and soon found himself hopelessly lost, which was probably what Tommy had been trying to warn him about. Oh well. He enjoyed being out in the woods where he wasn't the King's son, heir to the throne and all that. He could waste a day away out here if he wanted.

Not far away in a tiny wooden cabin, Laurel was preparing for a day out with a book to read and a basket for collecting berries, herbs and anything else that caught her fancy. "I'll be back to make dinner, Ted."

"Don't go too far," he cautioned her, as he always did.

Laurel smiled and shook her head. He was such a worrier. She stepped outside and shut the door behind her, humming under her breath. As she went further out, confident in her complete isolation from even Ted, her humming turned to song. First under her breath, then louder as her confidence grew. She liked her voice, but she'd grown shy of sharing it when she hardly had an audience.

Yet that was about to change.

Oliver looked up, pulling the reins to slow his horse to a trot, then a walk. Had he heard something?

Then it came again, off through the trees. The most beautiful voice he'd ever heard. Like a siren's call, perhaps, it beckoned him. And so he went, riding quickly and jumping over brambles and fallen logs in his path.

He slowed once again to listen, then swung off his horse and walked the rest of the way through the trees that separated him from the owner of such a voice. When he at last lifted a branch aside to see into a small clearing, he was momentarily stunned. "Lord…"

A maiden with long, blonde hair and sparkling green eyes swayed her way this way and that. Her clothes were plain and she'd forgone stockings and even shoes for the moment as she seemed content to feel the grass beneath her feet as she moved to the music of her own making.

Heedless to any observer, Laurel continued her approximation of a dance, the little she had gleaned from her books of how one was meant to dance. If only she had a real partner instead of her daydreams to help show her how it was meant to be.

And then, quite suddenly, she did.

Oliver had tied the reins of his horse to the branch, stepping forward just as her back had turned to catch her hands and guide her in a spin. The surprise on her face mirrored what he felt at his own daring; he hadn't been able to resist.

"Oh!"

Instantly, he released her and stepped back hands raised. "I'm sorry. You looked a little lonely there."

Laurel backed up into a tree, eyes wide as she took the young man in who was standing before her. She'd never met a man in the woods before; she was usually so much more careful.

"I wasn't lonely. In fact, I'm meant to be alone," she argued. "Or at least, not with some stranger." There was no need to make him think she was all by herself, after all, even if she feared she was very much out of Ted's earshot.

Oliver shook his head. "We can't really be strangers." He didn't want this encounter to end so soon.

Laurel stepped away from the tree she'd half-hidden behind, intrigued despite herself. "Can't we?"

He thought quickly, then asked, "Haven't you ever dreamed of meeting some handsome fellow?"

Laurel ducked her head and blushed. "Yes."

Oliver spread his arms. "Well then, here I am."

"You're very confident about that," Laurel teased. "I didn't even say if he was blond."

For a moment, he seemed stumped. But Oliver quickly rallied. "Some have described my hair as a very light brown. I'm adaptable."

"Are you," she replied, grinning so widely she thought her cheeks might hurt. She wasn't meant to find strangers so charming, but there was just something about him, as if they really had met in some dream of another life. "Who are you, really?"

He grinned. No one ever asked him that question. He found he liked it. "You can call me Ollie."

She thought he might be a hunter of some sort. She'd heard them pass by her home a number of times but never seen one so close. And his clothes were of a much finer weave than any she might have expected a common hunter to wear. But whether he was or wasn't, she didn't find herself terribly worried. So she curtsied and said, "Well, Ollie, I'm Laurel."

He bowed in turn. "Laurel. A beautiful name to accompany such natural beauty as I've found here." He was happy to see her pretty blush again. "Shall we continue our dance?"

"I'm afraid I haven't learned the rest."

"Then I'll lead. Trust me, I know them all." They'd been drilled into his head by tutors, and though he'd been irritated at the time, he appreciated the excuse now to be nearer to her. Laurel allowed him to take one of her hands again as he guided her other hand to his shoulder before placing his own at her waist. He nodded to her once and they were off, dancing around the clearing.

Laurel could hardly believe this was happening. She'd rarely met anyone in her life besides Ted, and now she was dancing in someone's arms. Ollie guided her less sure movements and never complained or asked why she didn't know them. He was a perfect gentleman.

Although as they slowed in the middle of the clearing and his arm slipped around her waist instead of resting at the side, she remembered herself. "Wait!"

Oliver, who had just been about to give into the temptation of kissing the beautiful maid, stopped. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure I should — it's just that, before they died, my caretaker promised them I would wait for my true love to have my first kiss." She had no way of knowing, of course, that the story was partly a lie; the Lord and Lady Lance still lived.

Oliver, for his part, was saddened to know her life had been marred by such a tragedy so young. He stepped back to allow some space between them again. "I see. But, if you don't let anyone kiss you, how are you meant to find your true love?"

She shook her head, smiling. "I'd yet to find anyone until today, so I'll have to let you know some other time." She scooped up her basket. "I'm behind on my errands. I should say goodbye."

"And wander through the woods with no escort?" He offered his arm. "Please, allow me."

With only a moment's hesitation, she took it, walking along towards the berry bushes she knew would yield the best results for Ted's cooking; she could not seem to produce food of any quality on her own, but she knew what went into it.

"What is your book?" He asked, nodding to her basket.

"Today, it's a collection of decrees by the King. Not many apply all the way out here, but I find them fascinating. Like a glimpse of the world beyond these woods."

"How did you and your caretaker come to dwell out here?" He couldn't help thinking that Laurel belonged in the palace with all the amenities and comforts such a life provided.

She shrugged. "I've lived here my whole life. I think it was a woodcutter's cottage before it became our home."

"Laurel?" A voice called, one familiar to her but not Oliver.

"Oh, Ted," she whispered. She pulled her arm away from Oliver and smoothed her dress. "You have to go. He can't see you."

"Alright. But when can I see you?"

"Sometime," she promised distractedly. Ted had called for her again. "I'm always out here for this or that thing. Just come find me — coming, Ted!" She stopped and turned back to Oliver, grasping his hand with both of hers. "Goodbye. And thank you for showing me the dance."

"It was my pleasure. I'll come find you again, Laurel." He held onto her hands as long as he was able before they slipped from his grasp and she was hurrying away through the trees. Such a strange but captivating young maiden. He longed to be with her again already.

Oliver went back to his horse and rode for home. He evaded all questions of where he had been and what he had been up to, excusing himself to see his betrothed. Though, truthfully, he considered her far more a friend.

Oliver and Sara had courted for a time, and indeed still did to keep up appearances. But Sara had confessed she didn't wish to settle down and be Queen with all the expectations that came with it, and Oliver, young and uninterested in commitment himself, had agreed to the ruse with little hesitation. So she was the only person he felt he could safely tell his secret to. He told her everything from the voice he had heard to the lovely maiden and the dance and conversations they had shared. "I never knew meeting someone, even for a moment, could change so much. But I think I'm in love."

"After only one meeting?"

"I'm going to see her again. And I'll keep seeing her the whole rest of our lives if she wants. I can't explain it, Sara," he told her. "I just know this is right."

"It sounds wonderful, Oliver, it does. But you know your parents will never let you marry a common girl even if they let you out of marrying me."

The reality of his position caught up to him once more, and his shoulders slumped. Laurel was everything he might have longed for in his love, and he was sure the whole kingdom would find her a most beautiful, intelligent and kind Lady. Even a Queen, someday. But it would never be.

"Then I simply won't marry," he declared. There would be two lives for him. One, Prince Oliver, heir to the throne of Starling; the other, Ollie, Laurel's sweetheart and companion. It was the only way.

For years, their clandestine meetings continued. Whenever the Prince could catch a few moments of privacy, whenever the Lady could escape her minder for an hour or so in the summer sun. Winters were long and lonely as they had no place to see each other that protected them from the elements. Campaigns with the knights to protect their borders occupied nearly five years of his time as well, though the fighting kept him from having to answer his parents' increasing demands to settle down.

And Laurel was growing impatient as well. "Haven't we waited long enough, Ollie?"

"I thought you were worried about leaving Ted?" Her caretaker had grown quite old in the intervening years, after all.

"We wouldn't have to abandon him. But I want to make a life with you. A home, a family. We're already thirty. How much longer should we wait?"

He sighed. It was wrong of him to keep delaying and never explaining why, he knew that. But he was convinced that he had lied for so long about his title of Prince that she might reject him if he told the truth now.

The other complicating factor was that he wasn't sure he even wanted to be Prince any longer. Oliver cared about his people, but he felt lost trying to fill his father's shoes. And knowing he would only be allowed to rule without the woman he loved at his side left him defeated and uninspired.

Perhaps he wasn't meant to be a great King like his forefathers. Thea was of age and a bright young girl at that. She could provide the kingdom with guidance, couldn't she?

"I've loved you for nearly half of my life, Laurel. Is this absolutely what you have your heart set on?"

"It is."

Oliver nodded. It was time to choose, and he already knew his choice. "Let me return home and make arrangements, gather provisions. We'll leave tomorrow on your birthday and make our own way in the world."

Laurel beamed, throwing her arms around him in a hug that he returned, nearly lifting her off her feet. "Thank you, Ollie. I'll wait for you at the cottage. We can tell Ted and get his blessing." She leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek — the closest intimacy they'd yet to share — and then they parted to enact their plan.

Once home, Oliver gathered his most trusted friends. This included Sara, Princess Thea, Tommy and Sir John, his most loyal knight and de facto advisor.

"Some of you know parts of this already, but I've finally made up my mind. I'm going to abdicate the throne."

"What?" Tommy cried.

"Is it for your lady?" Thea guessed with a knowing smirk.

"Definitely gotta be the lady," Sara agreed.

"Your Highness," Sir John began with a frown. He had figured out some years ago that Oliver had been purposefully slipping his guard to go somewhere, but had never quite glean the location of the tiny cottage. A fact Oliver was grateful for, as it would have rather spoiled the whole thing. "What about the kingdom?"

"The kingdom is still in my father's capable hands. And I'm sure Thea will make a better heir to the throne than me."

"Whoa, who said _I_ wanted to?" His sister asked.

"Ollie, just think for a minute. You're going to leave your friends and family completely behind just for a woman you've met up with every so often?"

"And who you've been lying to," Sir John pointed out.

"It's not lying if I'll no longer be the Prince," Oliver argued, even as guilt twisted his insides. Maybe he would tell Laurel once they had gotten safely away, but he knew doing so right now would only complicate things, so what was the point? "I've made up my mind on this. Laurel is more important to me than anyone, so if I can't have the life I want with her here, I'll make one for us elsewhere. I just didn't want you all to worry about me."

"I say you should follow your heart," Sara recommended.

"Yeah, but… we'll miss you," Thea added. He stepped forward and gathered her in a hug for a moment.

When he offered his hand to Tommy his friend reluctantly shook it before taking his leave. Sir John did not even offer his own hand.

"I suppose you'll need to be making preparations, Oliver."

Oliver sighed. He knew the knight thought he should be doing more for the kingdom, but he had served it for his whole life. Did he not deserve some of his own happiness?

Tommy returned to the wing of the castle set aside for him and his father, the advisor to King Robert — and Queen Moira's lover, though only a very few within the castle knew that. Though he loathed his father, Tommy knew that leaving his authority meant losing his status in the castle, and he was prepared to admit he could not survive as a commoner. Though Oliver's impending absence from the castle made it a far less appealing alternative.

"What has you in a sulk today, Tommy?" His father asked, sounding faintly amused at his expense.

Well, he had news that would likely knock the wind out of his father's sails. "Ollie," Tommy answered him. "He's leaving his crown to spend his days with a girl he's been seeing. I'm sure she's beautiful and a terrific singer and everything else he's said, I just—"

"She's a singer?"

"Yes," Tommy repeated slowly. "Not professionally, she doesn't travel with the minstrels or anything. Just lives out in the woods with some cranky old guy named Ted."

"I see," said Malcolm, the wheels turning in his mind.

What Tommy did not realize was that his father was not content with simply being the King's advisor; he was hungry for ever more power, and if his suspicions were correct about the identity of this maiden, he believed he had a way to get it.

"I shall have to think on what this means for the kingdom," he said out loud, excusing himself from the room. He stopped by the royal armory to retrieve a particular item, then descended deep into the dungeons until he entered a secret room which contained only a stone idol. Malcolm knelt before it and waited.

After a moment, a blinding flash of light emitted from the idol, then standing in the room was the Unseelie himself: Damien Darhk.

"You call upon me, Lord Merlyn?"

"Yes. I believe I have information on the Lady you have long sought. And I know how it can help us both achieve our own ends."

In the old woodcutter's cottage, Laurel had just finished packing her things when a knock sounded at her door. Drawing in a breath, she called out, "It's open, Ted."

Her old caregiver entered the room, raising his eyebrows as he noticed the state of her things. "You're ready?"

Laurel blinked. "Well, yes." How did he know? Was he just guessing, or had she been too obvious in her attempts to sneak away to see Ollie? "I've been meaning to tell you. I just hadn't figured out how."

Now Ted was the one confused. "Tell me what?"

"About my leaving to start a new life. I've met someone, Ted. Someone wonderful. And he thinks the same of me. He's been a man of distinct honor," she stated, as she could see his face already start to fall. "I kept my promise to you about waiting. But I — I really do think he might be the love of my life."

To her disappointment, he only shook his head. "I should have kept a better eye on you. I didn't want to restrict you to the house, that just didn't seem healthy."

Laurel frowned. "Ted—"

"It's not your fault. You don't understand. But Laurel, you can't be with him."

She felt the color rise in her cheeks as she marched forward a step. "And why not?"

"Because your marriage has already been arranged!" He exclaimed.

Laurel's mouth dropped open, and Ted sighed.

"You are the Lady Dinah Lance, named for your mother who still lives. Her and your father, a prominent Lord of the kingdom of Star."

"My parents? They're still — but _why—_"

"At a ceremony commemorating your birth, an Unseelie cursed you over a petty disagreement with your father. The curse was said to take effect by your 31st birthday, but Lord Lance entrusted you to my care, to keep you safe and away from the evil seeking to find you."

Laurel couldn't even think of what to say. She'd been cursed? What even was it a curse of? Was it in effect now?

Ted continued. "At that same celebration, the kingdom was also celebrating the birth of the new Prince. It was decided by your parents that he was to be your betrothed."

"I'm promised to the _Prince?_" Laurel managed to shake her stupor enough to ask. She didn't even know who the Prince was! King Robert's son, she supposed, but the books they had in the cottage were old and made no mention of him. What was he like? Surely nothing like her Ollie.

"When is your young fellow coming here?"

"Tomorrow. For my birthday," Laurel answered numbly.

"Then we'll leave immediately to reach the castle by sunset." He raised a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. "It is better to not involve him. For your own protection."

She didn't know what to feel. Her parents were alive? She had a family who had sent her away, but were waiting for her. She was a lady — but betrothed to another man!

It was this that finally caused her to sink onto her bed, her head resting in her hands.

"This isn't fair," she cried, her shoulders shaking.

"Life often isn't," Ted said simply, though she knew he meant it as a comfort. "And your life has been harder than most." She heard his footsteps shuffle to the door and back again. "I purchased this from a traveling caravan. It might not be the standards of the court, but I thought it might better suit a lady of your standing than what I've been able to give you all these years."

Laurel raised her head to see the blue gown he held out to her. It was the nicest thing she'd ever had to wear, and all she could think was that she wanted it out of her sight.

"For your birthday, huh?"

Laurel stood slowly, ignoring the dress in favor of hugging her caretaker. "Thank you, Ted. I just wish… but wishing won't do any of us good."

Ted nodded and left her room to allow her to change, taking her packing with him to prepare for their journey.

She would have to return tonight to see her parents; they had sacrificed so much to ensure her safety, she felt an obligation to at least assuage the worries they had to have held all these years. Once done, she could explain her situation and how she simply could not go through with the marriage they had arranged for her. Even if it was to the Prince? Surely they would understand.

If they did, would she be able to find Ollie again? How long would he wait at their cottage until he had decided she had left him? She couldn't see any easy way out of this.

With defeat in her heart, she put on the gown and descended the steps. She felt strange, almost out of her own body in the formal dress. Ted took her hand and led her out to a horse he must have arranged for. He helped her onto it while she figured out how to ride side-saddle, and then he took the reins to lead the animal in a slow walk. To her, it felt like a funeral procession; the end of her old life and dreams.

They continued through most of the night. Sir Ted was wary of stopping for too long on the open road. But eventually, their horse needed to stop for water, so he helped Laurel off while he brought the animal to a small stream.

Laurel stared out at the trees while she waited, wishing for all the world that something might forestall this unexpected change to her life.

Then something did. A green glow off in the distance that was at once captivating and entrancing. It called to her, nearly sounding like the voice of her dear love. Laurel walked toward it, unable to help herself.

Sir Ted turned the horse back around for the path, but stopped as he discovered his charge missing from where he had left her. "Laurel?" Off through the trees, he just caught sight of her back and the green glow drawing her like a moth to flame. "Laurel!"

Laurel was heedless to his shout, hypnotized as she was by magic — for it was Darhk's magic guiding her steps, closer and closer. She believed herself to be reaching her beloved Ollie, and therefore raised not even a hand to defend herself when the Unseelie stuck her side with an arrow from the Prince's own quiver.

Sir Ted crashed through the undergrowth just in time to watch his dear charge collapse into the deep slumber the Sidhe had predicted. "No!"

Damien Darhk laughed to see his revenge at last carried out. He dodged the knight's enraged strike with ease before throwing him against a tree. "You mortals thought you could outwit _me,_ did you? Let this be a message to you all. Of course, I haven't finished my fun. There's a Prince I need to see to next." With that, he disappeared in a flash of blinding light.

Sir Ted crawled towards the fallen maiden, despair filling him at the sight of her still form. "I failed you. Lord forgive me…" His arm outstretched towards hers, he fell insensate for a time.

Sir Ted roused at the sound of hooves against the dirt path. "Prince Oliver!" A voice shouted. "Prince Oliver!"

"Help," Sir Ted mumbled weakly, before rallying his full voice. "Help, please!"

A number of guards led by Lord Merlyn himself found them. "What has happened here?" The nobleman asked, directing his guards to help both the older knight and the young lady off the earthen floor. "Speak quickly."

"I am Sir Ted, the knight Lord Lance sent with his daughter years ago to protect her from Damien Darhk. But this night, I have failed my sworn task. Darhk appeared to her and lured her into a trap where she met with the arrow that he foretold."

"The _Prince's_ arrow," Lord Merlyn said, picking the offending weapon up from the ground. "And the same night that he has fled the castle. There has been some treachery at work tonight."

"It was Darhk, I tell you," Sir Ted tried to explain.

"Lord Lance must be informed, and the kingdom prepared," Merlyn said, ignoring the retired knight. He snapped at a pair of guards. "Bring the young Lady Lance. She should be allowed to rest with her family at last."

They carried her away before Sir Ted could voice another protest. He hurried to his horse, determined to follow the group. Even if he had failed to stop the dark prophecy from unfolding, he refused to abandon his duty to Laurel.

And he sensed a kind of treachery indeed.

Within the court at Star, the Lord and Lady Lance were preparing a massive feast, for it was finally the day their daughter would return. Only the older servants truly knew this, though; Quentin and Dinah had long forbidden any mentions of their lost baby, for fear it would incur the interest of the Unseelie who lurked their lands.

Yet in the midst of their preparations, a servant showed in a most auspicious guest along with two of his guard.

"Lord Malcolm," said Lady Dinah, curtsying low. "We are honored by your presence tonight."

"I wish I could say the honor was mine, Lady Dinah. But I fear I bring you both news of a tortuous sort. My men encountered Sir Ted the Wildcat in the woods on his way here with a young lady. The one you have been waiting for, I believe."

Lord and Lady Lance both held their breath. Unknown to them all, Lady Sara had stopped just outside the room, curious and straining to listen in on this conversation.

"She was struck down by an arrow just as you have feared these thirty years," Lord Merlyn told them at last.

"No!" Lady Dinah's legs could not support her, and she fell back into a chair.

"What's more, it was done by the Prince's hand."

"_What_?"

Lord Lance's exclamation covered his daughter's own gasp. Oliver had killed some young woman? He would never! And anyway, he was on his way to the woodcutter's cottage to run off with his lady friend.

"I have begun a search for the Prince. We have no idea what he plans to do next, but it is clear the royal family has turned on us if they have seen fit to rob you of your daughter on the eve of your reunion."

_Daughter?_ Sara mouthed the word to herself. What did that mean? She was right here.

"I cannot believe this," Lord Quentin said. "After everything King Robert promised. That his son would — it's unthinkable!"

"He's gone mad." Lady Dinah turned to her husband. "Quentin, if he struck down our eldest, what of Sara?"

"Lord Malcolm wishes to offer protection for her," a guard stated.

"Thank you," Lord Quentin said. "I would ask that you protect her and my wife. Lord Malcolm, I wish to join you in your search for the Prince so that my firstborn will be avenged."

"Wait." Sara came out into the open at last, startling the group. "What is going on? You're all talking like I have a sister."

"There isn't time, dear," her mother said. "Go with Lord Malcolm's guards and I'll join you once I've seen to the servants.

"Come, Lady Sara," a guard said, taking her by the arm and having to drag her out of the home where they were joined by even more guards.

"What happened to her? Why did you lie to me?" Her whole life, she'd never thought she was anything other than an only child. Why would her parents have sent one of their own away, and why would Oliver ever do something so cruel as to harm her before Sara even got to meet her? This didn't make any sense!

"Let me go!" Sara struggled to free herself from their hold, but they outnumbered her greatly and had weapons besides. So it was to her surprise that her captors suddenly stopped.

"Move off the path!" One of them ordered.

"I will not," said a woman's voice, powerful and vaguely foreign-sounding. When Sara peeked over one of the guard's shoulders, she caught a glimpse of the stranger; cloaked and with a scarf over her nose and mouth, what struck Sara first was her dark and piercing eyes. Then the sword at her side.

"You will release the maiden and tell me where I may find Lord Merlyn."

"We'll do no such thing. Seize her!"

What happened next, Sara could hardly believe. The woman ducked and weaved through the guards, cutting them down with practiced ease until none remained standing. Then she was suddenly standing right in front of her, but Sara found she was the one breathless.

"Come with me if you wish to be safe from those men."

Sara took the woman's hand without question, being pulled along away from her family's castle, through the village, and into the surrounding trees.

"Who are you?"

Her rescuer looked back at her. "I am Nyssa, Heir to Nanda Parbat. I have been sent to settle a quarrel my father has with your kingdom's advisor."

"So why save me?"

"Because you required it. Is it not common for those on a quest to rescue beautiful ladies in your land? I had read as such."

"Um, yeah, it's common," Sara replied, feeling her face heat up. She thought she could see the outline of a smirk beneath the scarf still adorning her rescuer's face. "I'm Lady Sara," she said, rallying herself. She wasn't usually so shy, but then, she'd never been saved by a gorgeous lady before!

"Lady Sara," said Nyssa al Ghul, bowing low over Sara's hand and pulling her scarf down at last in order to kiss it. Sara has been right; she was gorgeous. "Do you know where I may find Lord Merlyn?"

"All I know is he's leading my father and a bunch of men to try and capture my friend, the Prince of Star. He's claiming Oliver hurt my sister or something — he's claiming I have a sister in the first place, which is already news to me."

"The fabled Lady, cursed by Darhk, perhaps?" When Sara stared at her blankly, Nyssa elaborated. "My father's sources told him of a Lady in the court of Star cursed upon birth to fall into eternal slumber after her thirtieth year. She was secreted away from your kingdom to protect her from the Unseelie they call Damien Darhk — but it seems to me this plot is one of Lord Merlyn's design."

"Eternal slumber?

Sara wished she could have a minute to just _process_ all of this, but her eye had caught upon an older-looking knight riding in on a horse with some sort of jungle cat embroidered upon his tunic. She pulled Nyssa along toward him.

"Sir Ted?"

"I am, yes. Forgive me, but I must find Lord Lance. I have news for him."

"He knows about his daughter already," Sara told him. "And I'm her sister."

The knight's face fell, and he dismounted. "I am sorry I could not protect her. But there has been a grave error made. The Prince was not her attacker. I must tell the court the truth, and then return to the cottage to see if I may find Laurel's love waiting for her there. He may be her only hope."

"Then it is true love's kiss which breaks the curse?" Nyssa asked.

"My sister's name is Laurel?"

Sir Ted looked down. "I called her such for thirty years to better hide her, yes. Her true name is Lady Dinah, the betrothed of Prince Oliver and therefore the future Queen of our kingdom. But if the man she met on her own is her true love, then nothing can stand in the way of bringing him here."

"No, but my friend, Oliver, he's the Prince. And he met a girl out in the woods years ago. He's planning to meet her at her cottage and run away, and _her_ name is Laurel." Sara gasped. "Ollie's Laurel. He's walking into a trap!"

"Then we will attempt to intercede," declared Nyssa. "I must borrow your horse, Sir. Come, Lady Sara." Nyssa helped her step into the stirrups, then mounted the horse behind Sara, bracketing her with her arms as she reached for the reins to spur the horse into a gallop.

"Find Laurel!" Sara called back to the knight. "We'll bring Ollie to her!"

She could only hope they reached Oliver before her father and Lord Merlyn did.

As Oliver approached the woodcutter's cottage for the first time, he observed his surroundings and slowed. The air was still, the trees quiet. Not a single creature making noise, and no candles were lit inside despite it being just after daybreak. Something was amiss.

The door swung open, and a man with nearly white-blond hair stepped out. "Oh fine, _don't_ fall for it. I can improvise."

Oliver reached for an arrow in his quiver. "Who are you, and what have you done with Laurel?" He could tell by the man's voice that this certainly wasn't her caretaker Ted.

"I am Damien Darhk, the infamous Unseelie. And what I've done to your beloved is what I promised to do thirty years ago as thanks for the slight her father Lord Lance dealt me."

Oliver froze. Lord Lance was Laurel's father? But she'd told him she was an orphan, and Sara had never made mention of an older sister.

"I can see the wheels struggling to turn," Darhk remarked with amusement. "Allow me to explain. When you were a baby, your parents entered you into a betrothal arrangement with Lord and Lady Lance's daughter. Their _eldest_ daughter. The whole kingdom was invited except me. Kind of a harsh way to find out you're so disliked, right? So I cursed her to die before her thirty-first birthday."

Oliver had been taught about the Sidhe and Unseelie by his various tutors, but this seemed unconscionable. "You cursed an _infant_ for something she had no control over?"

"Yes. I am evil, that is the idea," Darhk replied. Just as Oliver nocked his arrow on the bow, the Unseelie raised his hand and he felt himself frozen in place. "I wasn't done talking," Darhk said, his voice turning cold for an instant.

Try as he might, Oliver couldn't seem to break the spell over him.

"Now, the dear girl's parents hoped to keep her safe by hiding her out in the woods, and it might have worked. Except _you_ told your good friend Tommy all about your sweet maiden with the beautiful hair and stunning voice, and _he_ complained all about how you were leaving him behind to his father, Lord Merlyn. Who works for me."

Anger, white hot, burned in his gut. His father's best friend had betrayed them all?

"And see, this has all worked out even better than I could have planned. Your love now sleeps forever unless she can be awakened by true love's kiss, which is you. But right now, Lords Merlyn and Lance are on their way here with a small army because I _may_ have borrowed an arrow from your armory to do the job. Whoops!"

If he had his voice, Oliver would have uttered a thousand curses and oaths at the Unseelie by now.

"So, you get to battle your way through your own kingdom's people on your way to the kingdom for your true love, who you may awaken with a kiss assuming you don't die or have to kill her father or something else horrible," Darhk said. Then his grin turned sharp. "Or I could just end it all right now and ensure the lovely lady _never_ wakes up."

He closed his hand into a fist, and Oliver suddenly found his breath stopped. He was choking on nothing.

An arrow shot past him and very nearly embedded itself into Darhk's eyeball had he not grabbed it at the last second, breaking whatever hold he had on Oliver. "Hm, craftsmanship suggests Nanda Parbat…"

Oliver did not hear anymore. He went crashing through the trees, knowing he needed to put as much distance between himself and the Unseelie as possible if he was to ever reach Laurel.

To his right cane a shout. "There he is!"

Guards normally under the command of his father descended down a slope with swords drawn. He struggled to outrun them and knew they would soon be upon him—

"Ollie!"

Sara's voice had him looking round. She was holding the reins of a horse while an unknown woman holding a bow swung off the back.

"How did you—"

"Come on!"

"Rescue your love," Sara's new friend ordered him. "And leave Merlyn to me." She stride past him to face the oncoming guards.

Sara reached out a hand to help pull him up. "How did you figure all this out?" He asked her.

"I'm kind of learning as I go. Now you have to go wake up my sister so I can finally have one. I can't believe you never brought me to meet her."

"I didn't know!"

"Sara, what are you doing?" Lord Quentin yelled upon seeing his other daughter preparing to take off with the man he believed to have harmed his eldest.

"You'll understand later, I promise!" She snapped the reins, and the horse took off.

Lord Merlyn sent some of his mounted guards after them, led by Lord Quentin. Then he approached his adversary on foot. "Nyssa. I suppose I should have expected this."

"And yet you made no preparations. How thoughtless of you." She exchanged her bow for her sword, watching as he did the same.

"You think by beating me you will finally win your father's elusive approval?"

"It matters not. You have conspired against a dear lady and her family." She readied her stance. "For that alone, I will be glad to rid the earth of you."

At once, the two charged, meeting in the middle with a clang of swords. Though Merlyn possessed great height and strength, Nyssa was his equal if not better in skill. She had prepared her whole life for the warrior's path, and her fury at what had been done to hurt Lady Sara and her sister propelled her to new heights. They exchanged blow after blow, circling the small clearing again and again, until at last, Nyssa's sword caught Merlyn's and flung it out of his reach.

He held up both hands. "Nyssa, wait. I'm a father, the only family my son has left in this world."

"Yet you ally yourself with those who would steal children from their parents." Unwilling to hear his pathetic pleas any further, she cut him down.

Meanwhile, Sara and Oliver's progress through the woods was greatly impeded by a forest of thorns spontaneously growing in their path every which way Sara turned the horse. "It's Darhk," Oliver realized. "I'll have to go on foot. Hold off your father. Try to explain."

"Alright, but hurry, Ollie."

The Prince plunged into the brambles, hacking at them with his sword over and over, slowly but steadily cutting his path. They tore at his clothes and his skin but he battled through the pain, knowing that at the end of all this was something he wanted more than life itself.

He fought off beasts, transformed and monstrous with Darhk's magic, and forded streams that had turned into raging rapids threatening to flood the land. When at last he spied the gates of the kingdom, he was forced to dodge a volley of arrows from the guards at the ramparts. Oliver used a back way he and Tommy had discovered as children to sneak over the castle walls and into the place he'd called home.

The castle itself was quiet and still. The sudden upset of the coup seemed to have all on edge. Nevertheless, he snuck his way to the kitchen where he hoped to find aid.

"Raisa?"

Sure enough, their old cook still busied herself by the fireplace, though she jumped in alarm at his voice. "Prince Oliver!"

He shushed her, and she glanced around before engulfing him in a hug.

"I'm so relieved you've made it home alive. But if you're seen—"

"Some allies of mine are dealing with Lord Merlyn and the guards. What's become of my family?"

"The Queen and the Princess have been confined to their rooms. No one is to go in or out, save select servants. I am one."

"And my father?" He asked, dreading the answer.

Her crestfallen face told him the truth before her words. "Slain by Lord Merlyn. The servants all know it was him." She wrapped him in a second hug, this time one of comfort which he gladly accepted. "I fear for your life as long as you remain here."

"I have to put an end to this, Raisa. I have to break the curse, so that peace can be restored and the truth known. Tell me, do you know where they are keeping Lord and Lady Lance's daughter? I don't mean Sara."

"So it is the lost Lady," Raisa breathed. "I brought water and bread to a knight long retired from his duties. He has hidden himself in the highest room of the tallest tower, where he guards the young lady you speak of."

"Thank you, Raisa." He left the kitchens and made his way to the tower. Oliver took the stairs at a run, knowing he was trapping himself the higher he climbed. If he was discovered before reaching the highest room, it might all be over.

At last, he cleared the final stair to find a locked door. He knocked, calling out, "Sir Ted?"

For his part, Sir Ted has done as Lady Sara requested and found her sister. The guards had placed her sleeping form on a cart while they discussed their orders to shoot the Prince on sight, only leaving one guard to watch Laurel. Ted has chosen not to engage the younger man in formal combat and instead punched him out before securing his charge and hiding them within the unused room in the tower. He had hoped to spy the return of Lady Sara, Nyssa and Prince Oliver, but the forest of thorns had obscured his sight. Now, he rose and answered the door.

"My Prince," he said, bowing his head slightly. Then, with a wary look down the stairs beyond, he opened the door another few inches to allow Oliver inside, taking his place on the stairs to watch for any guards and to grant the couple a moment's privacy.

Laurel rested on the room's only bed, her hair like spun gold fanning out over the pillows. Her chest rose and fell slowly, the one indication that she was not totally lost to this world.

Oliver walked forward, kneeling at her bedside and taking one of her hands. "Lady of the court or not, betrothed or not, you will always be the love of my life. I still need you, Laurel." With this declaration, he softly kissed her lips with his own, pulling back to look at her with his breath held.

Her eyelids fluttered. That was the first sign. Then the color returned to her cheeks. Her fingers curled around his, and her green eyes blinked open.

"What? Where am I… Ollie!"

His eyes felt strangely wet for the wideness of his smile. "Prince Oliver of Star, actually."

Laurel's eyes widened. "You- you _knew_ this _whole time?_"

"Not about this!" He hurriedly clarified. "I didn't know you were really my betrothed who was cursed by an Unseelie or that I needed to break the curse by kissing you — but I'm glad at least about the last part."

Laurel touched a hand to her lips. "You kissed me?"

He nodded. "Sorry. I would've waited for you to be awake, but that was kind of the problem."

Laurel shook her head. "I cannot believe we were really supposed to be together this whole time."

"I can."

She smiled at him, shaking her head a little as she brought both arms around his shoulders to draw him closer.

But a flash of light startled them both and announced the arrival of Darhk himself. Angered by Malcolm's and his own failures to impede the young lovers, he sought to take revenge for himself — until Lady Laurel released a scream from her mouth that threw him from the window of the tallest tower and to the ground below. He remained there, unmoving.

Laurel placed a hand over her mouth as Oliver checked this, and both turned upon Sir Ted rushing back into the room. "Laurel!"

"I'm fine, Ted. We both are. I just…"

"The Sidhe's gifts," Sir Ted concluded. "They are known to work in mysterious ways."

Down below came a series of shouts. Loudest among them, the voice of Lord Lance. "Lay down your weapons! We've been tricked, all of us, by Lord Merlyn! The Prince is not our enemy!"

"I must tell your father the curse has been lifted," Sir Ted explained, leaving through the door once again.

"My father," Laurel echoed, standing to watch the people rushing about down below.

"That's him there," Oliver pointed out for her. "The young lady beside him is Sara, my friend. And your younger sister."

Laurel gasped. "I have a sister?" A tentative smile rose on her lips. "And who's _her_ lady friend?"

Oliver watched the woman with dark hair who had taken on Merlyn as she followed Sara's every step like a keenly devoted shadow. "I… don't actually know yet. But they seem pretty close."

"You're the Prince. I'm betrothed to the Prince, which means… I'm going to be a Princess."

"Not exactly." When she looked at him, Oliver explained. "Merlyn killed my father, which means I have to succeed him on the throne."

Laurel stared at him. "I'm going to be a Queen?"

"If you would. I was prepared to run away just to have a life with you, Laurel. I could never imagine doing this without you by my side."

Laurel's heart felt warm and nearly overflowing, to the point where all she could do was nod.

"We'll worry about the details after you've had a chance to meet your family," he promised her.

"And after you've had a chance to mourn yours," she added, taking his hands. He was glad for that measure of comfort and support, and gladder still when she guided his hands to rest on her waist.

"For now, I for one believe I am still owed a kiss."

"_A_ kiss?" Nevertheless, he obliged.

Though the kingdom was in some disarray from the sudden upheaval wrought by Darhk and his conspirators, the emergence of the young royals would help to soothe the pain of King Robert's loss for all. King Oliver, helped by his friends and advisors, would work to improve the lives of all the peoples of his kingdom. The most salient advice he found nearly always came from his Queen, whose own experiences growing up outside the courtly life often proved invaluable.

Her sister, Lady Sara, would go on to be the kingdom's emissary to the land of Nanda Parbat, which made both Sara and Nyssa very happy. The Ladies Lance would also quickly grow close and exchange letters and visits often. And even when Sara was away, Laurel found she had her father, Oliver's mother and sister, Sir Ted and always Oliver himself to provide the companionship and belonging she had often craved in her youth.

And they all lived happily ever after.

"More, more, more!" Chanted four year-old Olivia Queen, still as wide awake where she bounced on her bed as when he'd brought her up here for her story.

"More?" Oliver let his mouth fall open in a gape. "But that's it! That's all that happened."

"Nooo!" Olivia cried, the word drawn out. "They gotta bring peace to the kingdom and get married and go on dates with Lady Sara and her girlfriend and find a nice house for Sir Ted—"

"For the record," said William, standing in the doorway, "it doesn't make any sense for Sir Ted to have taken Laurel to the highest room in the tallest tower. How was he going to escape if he needed to?"

"Well," Oliver said, floundering for a moment. "He didn't need to."

"An' it's _special,_" Olivia told her half-brother. Oliver gave her an approving nod.

"You mean it's Disney?"

"Hey, we don't support the monopolization of the entertainment industry in this house," Oliver reminded, pointing a finger at his eldest. "But fair use is fair use, so—"

"I am not hearing snoring children," Laurel's voice came in partial sing-song from down the hall before she stopped behind William. "You nitpicking your dad's storytelling abilities again?"

William shrugged. "A bit." He wasn't quite out of the teenage years, clearly.

"Mommy, you were a Princess!"

"I was? Well, that's news to me." She stepped around William and walked to the bed, guiding their daughter to finally lie down under the covers instead of hopping around on top of them.

"Uh-huh. And you were asleep an' dad kissed you." Olivia giggled, clearly thinking the idea very silly.

"Well, now it's your turn to get some rest, Sleeping Beauty," Laurel told her. "I can't promise you a true love, but I can promise your dad's pancakes in the morning before we take William to the train station."

"Does Will _have_ to go?" Olivia whined.

"Yes. We can't hog him from his mom all the time."

"Okay," Olivia agreed, subdued.

"We'll see him in two weeks," Oliver promised, meeting William's eyes and getting a nod from him. Then he stood and joined Laurel to finish tucking their daughter in. "And we'll do a new story, then."

Olivia smiled up at him before yawning wide. "I love you, daddy."

And damn, that really always did something to him. Oliver blinked back the stinging at the corners of his eyes and bent down to kiss her forehead. "Love you too, beautiful baby."

Laurel and William each exchanged similar good nights with Olivia before they shut all but her Flash-symbol nightlight off and left her room.

Laurel loosely draped an arm around William's shoulders as they all moved down the hall. "You all packed?"

"Pretty much. Just, you know, toiletries and stuff."

"Okay, good. Go get some rest, honey."

"Goodnight, Laurel. Night, dad."

"Goodnight." Oliver watched his son head into his own room for the night, breathing in once and letting it out again with a distinct air of contentment.

"Sleeping Beauty? Really?"

He looked down at Laurel. "Why not? You're beautiful, even when you sleep."

Laurel swatted at his arm. "Why pick the story where I have to be asleep though?"

He shrugged. "You were only asleep for a little bit. And it kind of, I don't know, mirrored our lives. The, the life support," he muttered quietly, still finding it hard to talk about that horrible time she'd been hovering between life and death at the hospital.

It had forced him to grapple with his feelings for her and the conviction he needed to finally do right by her, but he would gladly pay any price never to have to live through something like that again.

Laurel seemed to sense his spiraling mood, for she stepped in close and wrapped her arms around him, fitting herself against him in that perfect way they had. "Hey, I'm fine. We both are."

He held back a smirk hearing her unknowingly echo some of the lines he'd given her in the story. They really did know each other too well sometimes.

"We have a beautiful family, a city that's on the mend even if it still needs some help here and there. And we have each other." She tilted her head back to meet his eyes. "That's my idea of a fairytale."

"And here I thought you'd groan if I used a 'happily ever after' pickup line."

Laurel's forehead dropped against his chest. "I am groaning. That's so bad."

He grinned unabashedly. "So bad it's good?"

"...if I say yes, does that get you into the bedroom?"

"It's a safe bet." He allowed Laurel to start pulling them along without an answer.

Fatherhood had certainly given him the opportunity to polish his storytelling skills, but it had also taught him not to let a quiet moment go to waste. And if that was one of the biggest challenges to his day, he had to agree with Laurel that they really were living their once upon a dream.


End file.
